


Maybe One Day

by norainydays



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: After S3, Canon Compliant, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norainydays/pseuds/norainydays
Summary: Loosely based on the song "Coming Home" by Skylar Grey.After the ending of Season 3, in which Daisy is still grieving Lincoln and the only place she feels she's truly able to do that is at Jemma's...or maybe it's Jemma that lets her grieve fully.





	Maybe One Day

Daisy didn’t feel like herself. She didn’t...she didn’t feel like  _ anyone _ . Or anything.

She felt like she was back before she called herself Skye, when she was still testing names.

_ Ella, Madison, Paige, Carol _ . That’s who she felt like.

She barely registered where her feet were taking her, somewhere she’d only been once or twice yet felt more like home than anywhere did at this moment. At least she had that. Somewhere she felt at home. She had somewhere to go unlike  _ Ella, Madison, Paige, Carol _ .

She was sure her eyes were glazed over and she looked like she was a sleepwalking mess.

Her hands curled up into a fist, and she had the sudden urge to punch something. To  _ destroy _ what little of the world people told her she couldn’t. They were wrong. She could destroy everything. So why was she here of all places? Jemma’s house. The one woman who she felt at least somewhat understood her plight

She took a step back, another, another, when the door swung open, Jemma’s kind and concerned eyes peeking out of the door frame. 

“...Oh, Daisy. Come on inside.” There was a sad smile on Jemma’s face, sorrow on behalf of Daisy, sorrow of Jemma’s own, but no pity. For that, Daisy was thankful.

When Jemma noticed that Daisy wasn’t moving, she hesitated for a split second before gently taking Daisy’s hand and pulling her inside, sitting her down on the couch and going into the kitchen, bumbling around and talking to Daisy even though Daisy wasn’t replying.

And then there was silence. And it covered Daisy like a blanket on top of ten others. 

But there was Jemma. Taking her hand once again. Placing a mug in Daisy’s hands. Sitting far but close, ready if Daisy needed her.

The coffee that burned her tongue slightly, but went down smoothly otherwise, seemed to shake loose the lump in Daisy’s throat, the one that had been there since...since Lincoln...since Lincoln left.

“My house doesn’t feel quite like a home anymore,” were the first words that she croaked. Daisy wasn’t sure why but...they were.

She felt Jemma’s hand move the small of her back, rubbing small circles on her back. “Yeah? Then where does feel like home?”   
Daisy tried to say, “Here,” but that answer didn’t seem quite right. Before her mind caught up with her mouth, she was saying, “You,” and leaning farther in.

“Daisy,” Jemma whispered, taking her hand and pressing it lightly against her cheek. She kissed the edge of her mouth. “Not tonight, okay? You’re in a bad place. And...I...I feel the same way, but you need to get better.  _ I  _ need to get better. And maybe...maybe one day we’ll both get to come home.”


End file.
